


don't stop trying

by kornevable



Series: Sportsfest18 [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-06-17 04:57:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15453822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kornevable/pseuds/kornevable
Summary: Fills involving Kageyama, Kindaichi and Kunimi.





	1. platonic kinkunikage - like any other day

**Author's Note:**

> [Prompt:](https://sportsfest.dreamwidth.org/7464.html?thread=512040#cmt512040)  
>  TIME: after practice  
> PLACE: train station  
> canon-divergence, Seijou!Kageyama + slight KageHina

The cold is biting him and he's doing his best not to fidget too much.  
  
“Kageyama, you still alive?”  
  
He grunts and buries his nose further into his scarf, eliciting a snort from Kunimi and a low chuckle from Kindaichi. Why are they so cold-resistant anyway? He's the one born in winter!  
  
“If you want, we can go another day,” Kindaichi suggests.  
  
“We're already in the station, might as well go now,” Kageyama mumbles.  
  
“He's not wrong. And it's going to be cold for three months anyway.”  
  
Kunimi shrugs. Kageyama sometimes wonders if Kunimi's whole being is made of ice, that you can't melt because he's just that unshaken to anything you throw at him, sliding on his outward appearance and dropping on the floor. For the longest it frustrated Kageyama to be unable to get a good read on him; he got better, at least that's what he wants to believe, but sometimes he wishes he could know for sure what his friend is thinking.  
  
Well, right now he must be thinking that Kageyama is being stupid.  
  
“And the guys in my class keep asking me if I played the game, so it's getting a bit annoying,” Kindaichi sighs.  
  
“When did they find the time to go to the arcade so many times?”  
  
“They don't have club activities.”  
  
“Must be nice.”  
  
“I prefer playing volleyball than going to the arcade.”  
  
“Yes, we know, Kageyama. It's not hard to guess.”  
  
Kindaichi grins at him while Kunimi stares at the two of them as if the strangest thing in the world happened. Kageyama doesn't get what it means, but he guesses he'll let it slide.  
  
His phone buzzes. He groans, finding the idea of exposing his hands to the cold extremely unappealing, and it's in these moments that he curses forgetting his gloves at home. Nevertheless, he still has to read that text, and when he sees who it is from, he can't help but smile, just slightly.  
  
“Is it Shrimpy?”  
  
Kindaichi peers over his shoulder, like he usually does when he's trying not to appear too curious, but in the universal body language this simple gesture is the definition of curiosity. Kageyama shies away from Kindaichi's eyes, frowning, but on his other side is Kunimi who is just as nosy.  
  
“If Kageyama smiles, then it can only be Shrimpy,” he states. “Isn't that right?”  
  
“Leave me alone,” Kageyama mutters. “Why are you so curious when Hinata texts me?”  
  
Kindaichi and Kunimi share a look, a silent conversation going on in the span of three seconds, and this makes Kageyama even more confused.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Nothing, we're just...glad that it's a regular thing?” Kindaichi replies, rubbing his neck. “Like, we met Karasuno only a few times and you and Shrimpy kept going at each other's throat, so...”  
  
“What he means is that it's good you're getting a boyfriend even if your social skills are deplorable,” Kunimi says on his flat tone, clapping Kageyama on the shoulder.  
  
Kageyama bristles and clutches his phone even closer to his chest.  
  
“You're one to talk, Kunimi!”  
  
The train finally arrives, screeching to a halt and Kageyama is the first to get on, stomping and ignoring his friends' snickers. He didn't deny the statement, after all, and that was probably a mistake. Ah, well. Too late for that.


	2. kinkunikage - one realization too late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](https://sportsfest.dreamwidth.org/7464.html?thread=466728#cmt466728)  
>  TIME: Right after one of them passes away  
> PLACE: Among fallen shelves in a library  
> major character death, FHQ

“That's just not fair! It's ridiculous! That doesn't make sense!”  
  
“I know, calm down.”  
  
“How the hell can I calm down?! Why are  _you_  so calm? Damn it!”  
  
Tobio kicks one of the books on the floor. It doesn't make a sound amid the crackling of the fire burning down more and more shelves, scattering hundreds years of knowledge to the dust. Whoever did it had a precise goal in mind, and to achieve it, they went through anything standing before them. Outside the library, right by the doors, the guards have been silenced a long time ago, without a speck of blood tainting their armor or the carpet of the corridor. Outside the castle, in the garden, countless blades shoot up from the ground, visible by the library windows. Like a curse aimed at anyone looking at them.  
  
Tobio grips his bow so hard that his knuckles turn white, but he doesn't feel the pain of it. He doesn't feel anything, except for the raw and scalding hatred that keeps building, enveloping his entire being and only leaving behind a trail of hot tears.  
  
Akira watches him, stares at him like he's the anomaly, while the fire keeps going, eating away little by the little this place.  
  
“I'm calm because one of us has to,” he says through gritted teeth, but Tobio doesn't care.  
  
“You can be calm and do something!” he shouts, gesturing to the destroyed shelves hiding more secrets than they can imagine. “You're a fucking mage, clean that up with water or something, I don't know, but  _do something!_ ”  
  
There is nothing between them, nothing to hold them back or to protect them, they never needed to hide anyway, so Tobio's emotions are as transparent as his desire to prove himself, and his cheeks are humid with uncontrolled and regretful tears. He doesn't wipe them away, doesn't try to pretend they don't exist, which makes it even more difficult for Akira to remain composed and the level-headed one, like he always has been.  
  
“You know it won't change anything,” he whispers.  
  
“I don't care Akira, just find Yuutarou!”  
  
Just find his body, he doesn't say, doesn't dare to say, even if he knows that this is what awaits him. He needs to see it first, before speaking, before believing; he's not the kind of person to judge or believe something without proof, and even now, that hasn't changed.  
  
Akira sighs. He lifts his hands, gathers his strength and the energy in the air, and brings down rain. Maybe it's thunder, he's not sure, with the sound of the fire still exploding despite arrows of water stabbing at it. It takes a few minutes to clear the area, and when it's done, everything is covered in black and smoke.  
  
Tobio doesn't wait. He dives into the shelves, on his knees, pushing aside books and wood alike, digging into the piles of ashes and dust. He abandoned his bow somewhere behind him. Akira joins him, slowly, like he's treading carefully, and perhaps he's right for doing so, but Tobio needs answers.  
  
They find Yuutarou, and his sword. They find what remains of him, and Tobio chokes on his tears and his scream, the images of the sight presented to him flashing and blaring.  
  
This is final.  
  
“I'm going to kill them,” Tobio growls. “I'm going to kill them with my bare hands if I need to.”  
  
“You can't do that, Tobio—”  
  
“You know who did that, and I do, too, so if you want to stop me, then try.”  
  
Akira stays quiet. Tobio is certain that it's a victory for him. Is it really victory?  
  
“I don't want to lose you too,” Akira says, barely above a whisper.  
  
Tobio turns around, tired of everything, tired of feeling all this. He purses his lips.  
  
“I'm not going to die.”  
  
The line between Akira's brows betrays his worry and his fear, so Tobio gets up, shaky on his legs, but still going on strong, because he must. He wraps an arm around Akira's shoulders and brings him closer to him.  
  
“I'm not going to die, and neither are you. They're going to pay.”  
  
“Don't be a dumbass and we'll be fine, I guess.”  
  
Akira lets Tobio's scent and aura surround him, and cries.


	3. kinkage - one more time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt:](https://sportsfest.dreamwidth.org/8539.html?thread=953435#cmt953435)  
>  "i kept my head down and bit my tongue / until i tasted love." - chelsea wolf, vex  
> slight pining

In retrospect, he's been very blind, and very stupid. One would argue that the latter is still valid, but since he's not the only idiot in the vicinity sputtering and being socially incompetent that doesn't really count, okay. Middle school is a blurry period of his life, curtained by acts he doesn't want to remember, but still acknowledges—he can't forget and discard all the suffering it yielded, to others or even to himself.  
  
Kageyama looks at the ball Kindaichi is spiking and thinks that yes, he's always loved seeing that. A perfect form flying, using his optimum strength to strike true. He's seen that form countless times, but never at its best, never as free as it is now, completely in control and not the result of some distorted effort to match something impossible. This time, it comes from the heart and doesn't reflect painful ambition. It's as it should be.  
  
The ball lands on the other side of the net with a thundering sound, and when Kindaichi looks back at him, his grin is so bright, so genuine, it sends shock waves all through Kageyama's body.  
  
“That wasn't bad, right?”  
  
It's just another sunny day wrapping them into a bubble of their own, a feat that Kageyama didn't think possible but here they are, together on a deserted open-air court because it's too early in the morning for anyone to come practice. Kindaichi accepted the insane request to get up at six in the morning on a Sunday to meet with someone he's only recently accepted to reform a bond they once shared; he could have refused, could have said that this was too soon to try a quick. Maybe the links weren't as broken as he thought—one year and a few words exchanged later did wonders, and Kageyama isn't going to reject them.  
  
Kindaichi is still grinning, confident in his spike, and he has reason to.  
  
“Yeah. The toss could be higher though,” Kageyama muses.  
  
He was saying this to himself, but still glances at Kindaichi, gauging his reaction. This time, he doesn't fear an outburst; he knows that this toss is nowhere near what Oikawa-san used to set during their matches, that there is still room for improvement. He knows all this, and while the past is way behind them, memories can't help but spring back to cloud his expectations.  
  
Kindaichi's face is neutral, for a moment, as if he's not sure himself what to suggest. Kageyama looks at the ball on the ground, hands limp at his sides, picturing what the next toss could be.  
  
“We can try whatever you were thinking of,” Kindaichi finally whispers. “You know. In middle school.”  
  
Then he scrunches up his nose and shakes his head.  
  
“I mean, not exactly what you wanted to do in middle school, but rather, if you think there is something we can do, then let's try.”  
  
Kageyama remembers being a first year at Kitagawa Daiichi, training with new teammates and guided by senpais, and finding common ground with two boys just as eager for victory as him. He promised to become the best setter, and one of the boys promised to become his ace, and that he trust his abilities.  
  
For the first time in forever, Kageyama can hear again this unspoken vow in Kindaichi's words—and it fills him with a dizzying joy too raw, too sudden, he can't quite accept this emotion back into his life yet. For the first time in forever, he sees the smile and the gentle confidence he fell in love with, showing him a world where he can believe anything is possible.  
  
He can have it back.  
  
“I understand,” he rasps, and lifts his head to gaze directly into Kindaichi's eyes. “I know we can do it.”  
  
Kindaichi nods, lips still curved upwards. He goes to pick up the ball, and hands it to Kageyama.  
  
“One more time, Kageyama.”  
  
Happiness is choking him, but it only feels right. He tosses.


	4. kinkunikage - watch the path home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt:](https://sportsfest.dreamwidth.org/8539.html?thread=1247579#cmt1247579)  
>  I said I'd never miss you  
> But I guess you never know  
> May the bridges I have burned light my way back home  
> \-- Fourth of July, Fall Out Boy

It’s awkward. It’s awkward and weird and nerve-wracking, because even if they meet on the court and can stand next to each other to attack or block, sitting together on the same bench waiting for a bus is a complete another story. Only a few blocks separate their houses—they often went over, back in the days, to do their homework or play games or eat cake, and while it was a short period of time, Kindaichi remembers it being full of fun.  
  
He can’t describe the current situation as fun.  
  
“Uhm...Where are you going?” Kageyama asks, not looking at either of them in the eye, finding his messenger bag much more fascinating.  
  
“To the zoo,” Kunimi answers with a shrug. “Oikawa-san organized a team outing.”  
  
“Ah.”  
  
Animals have never liked Kageyama, for some reason, they always end up growling at him or scratching him if he attempts to pet them. Which is quite a shame, because Kindaichi vividly recalls Kageyama’s face lighting up when he told him he had a dog—it’s been such a long time but the memory never disappeared, still locked inside his mind and waiting to be cupped by warm hands. And when one memory resurfaces, it nudges the others, one by one, like a trail of sparkles abandoned in the dark. Kindaichi swallows.  
  
“You know that Oikawa-san likes these team outings,” he says.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“And where are you going?” Kunimi asks.  
  
Suddenly Kageyama frowns and he looks ready to rant, but he only grumbles and glares at his bag.  
  
“I have to buy a textbook for one of my failed classes. The teacher’s recommendation or whatever. As if that’s going to help me.”  
  
Kindaichi and Kunimi share a look, and then Kindaichi softly laughs. This draws Kageyama’s attention and he snaps his head towards him, like he’s been whipped and everyone is mocking him. Kindaichi tries to be more subtle and he does feel a bit guilty, but this seems all too familiar and seeing such a sheepish expression on the setter’s face is kind of nostalgic.  
  
“I forgot how bad you were at studies,” he explains with a small smile. “Kunimi had to tutor you.”  
  
“Yeah, and he was sleeping through it.”  
  
“It’s not my fault literature and maths are boring.”  
  
“If you try hard enough, it can be interesting.”  
  
“No way. I don’t believe that.”  
  
“I see that your opinion on the matter hasn’t changed at all.”  
  
This elicits a snort from Kunimi, and Kageyama is still looking like he’s about to commit mass murder because of homework. This seems all too familiar, falling into arguing and then teasing. The sensation Kindaichi gets from their short exchange isn’t quite the same but it’s very close, very comforting. It’s like reliving something from another lifetime.  
  
Their bus arrives. Kageyama looks startled by it, and Kindaichi realizes he does too, when it hits him that they have to part ways, and that this impromptu meeting didn’t end as badly as they originally thought. He gets up, Kunimi following suit, and they slowly make their way to the bus’s door. They should say something, Kindaichi thinks, instead of trying to end this with a simple goodbye; he doesn’t remember the last time they told each other ‘goodbye’—this past year was only filled with ‘next time’.  
  
“H-Hey, see you guys at the next match?”  
  
Kindaichi turns around, faces a determined but wide-eyed Kageyama expecting a lot and believing in the future. The kind of expression they used to find on him.  
  
“Yeah,” Kindaichi replies, smiling a bit. “See you around. It’s nice to talk again.”  
  
“What he said,” Kunimi adds, and the surprise that’s painted on their faces is so flabbergasted that Kunimi rolls his eyes. “I’m not a cold-hearted monster.”  
  
“Thanks, I guess,” Kageyama mumbles. “...Bye.”  
  
He waves tentatively, but Kindaichi returns the gesture enthusiastically, because in the end, finding again something he’s missed is nice. Perhaps it will one day recover its past glory.


	5. kinkage - daydream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt:](https://sportsfest.dreamwidth.org/10320.html?thread=1657168&posted=1#cmt1870416)  
>  Most daydreamed about but never acted upon their feelings

It's never easy to admit to one's feelings. One day they don't exist, the next they bloom inside your heart, and the following days they keep dancing until your brain has to do something about them. It's not really annoying, only a bit stressful at times, a bit painful other times. Kindaichi knows what kind of feelings they are, knows what he should or shouldn't do with them, but he can't simply blurt out words that he might regret later.  
  
He doesn't tell anyone, not even Kunimi; this is something extremely personal and he can't assert he won't be laughed for it. This is a part of him that quietly sits there, in the cocoon of his heart, while his face has to handle alone the issue. Whenever he looks his way, he can't help becoming a puddle of nervous brain cells and that makes him stammer, even though he knows what he wants to say. Red spreads across his cheeks and he feels himself being burned with too much stimulation. Sometimes he wonders what made him fall.  
  
He'd think about their team in their third year, when they are a powerhouse that nobody can beat, when he hits a perfect toss and spikes through their opponent's defenses, when he celebrates their victory with the team. That's what he wishes for them all—to enjoy their three years of volleyball and get to feel the excitement and the thrill of the games.  
  
What he thinks the most about, though, is how his hand would feel against his own, how casually draping an arm over his shoulders would make him smile, how seeing those beautiful blue eyes gleam with determination would make his heart beat faster. This is nothing like what he's experience before; it's all raw, scratching at his skin, like an itch he can't get rid of, but strangely enough, the more he ponders on it, the less uncomfortable it becomes. Maybe it's meant to be that way. Maybe he simply has to accept these feelings and wrap them with a layer of conscious protection to make sure they don't die or are eaten away, because despite the improbability of them being returned, he wants to keep them safe, and to let himself be soothed.  
  
Kageyama doesn't give any signs of knowing what is going on, but it's Kageyama. His head is full of volleyball and not even the hardiest person can pierce that wall with another interest. However Kindaichi is well aware of that, so he watches, takes stock of what's before his eyes. He follows the way Kageyama jumps to serve, he pockets every conversation they have, he remembers the lines of his grin. It's not much, only little at a time, but for now, it's enough for him. One day, perhaps, he will work up the courage to say something.


	6. kinkunikage - at our command

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt:](https://sportsfest.dreamwidth.org/11674.html?thread=2143898&posted=1#cmt2323866)  
>  "And all the heavens are at my command", god AU

The flutter of his kimono looks ethereal, deep black against the clear blue of the sky. He’s always worn that color, with a white undershirt, looking as proper as anyone can be, despite his words and his behaviour being anything but. Yuutarou doesn’t know why this time feels different, feels like something big will happen and transform their entire lives.  
  
“Yuutarou, Akira,” Tobio greets, his face impassible.  
  
Akira nods, while Yuutarou bows and lingers. Even if they are closer than ever, the urge to respect etiquette never leaves him, and secretly he thinks that Akira could use some, if he wants to avoid getting into trouble with other higher-ups more than he does now. Everybody jokes about Yuutarou’s presence being damage control for his partner.  
  
“It’s that time of the year again, and we’ve gotten more enemies.”  
  
“That’s not surprising,” Akira mutters, and Yuutarou elbows him hard in the side. Akira grunts and glares.  
  
“Well, I guess we don’t go unnoticed.”  
  
Tobio shrugs, then looks outside the glass window. In the courtyard, dozens of gods and their servants are gathered, drinking and exchanging niceties, just like at any party, but in this one, everyone fakes and everyone knows it. Yuutarou has never liked this yearly event; being questioned as one of the servants of the “King” aside, he dislikes the purpose of the gathering itself, and no matter how many years pass, no matter how many times Akira tells him to simply  _get over it already_ , he can’t bring himself to enjoy it. Fighting for the sake of fighting and providing entertainment sounds wrong.  
  
Tobio presses a hand against the window, while the other rests on the curve of his bow strapped on his shoulder. There is no quiver, as expected.  
  
“It’s not like I really want to win, but that’s better than obeying the orders of morons,” he says, resign written all over his face.  
  
Yuutarou raises an eyebrow. “We’ve already won the right to command at least a quarter of Heaven’s forces, for the past few years.”  
  
“Another one isn’t going to change anything,” Akira adds. “Well. Another plus another plus another, and at the end we’ll command everything.”  
  
There is something extremely unsettling at the thought of someone nicknamed King taking control of a vast and powerful space such as Heaven. Something heavy and twisting, cooling his body with a sort of trepidation, but Yuutarou has known Tobio for a long, long time, and has no doubts about his intentions (not anymore). So he steps forward, catching his lord’s attention, and gives a resolute nod—a few years ago it would have been more for himself than for Tobio.  
  
“We’ll follow you,” he asserts. “To keep this place safe.”  
  
“To keep it from being a disaster, you mean.”  
  
Akira’s words are always a comfort, always an anchor they can latch onto, and Tobio cracks a smile, eyes shining.  
  
“Then let’s get down and beat everyone.”  
  
This draws a snort from Akira and a chuckle from Yuutarou, and they’re ready to dominate the stage.


End file.
